Every poet has a story going on and there is more than one way to tell it. The story is inside each poet’s voice—has the poet discovered his own voice? Has she learned how to unlock that voice?

The mud has frozen, so all beasts go on their paths without leaving prints among the stones.

We are, of course, silly to fear poetry. Poets are just like the rest of us, aren’t they?

He couldn’t sit still from the knocking inside the body, from the faint shouting, thinking this must be love.

TopOfBlogs Real Time Web Analytics